


Sweetheart Deal

by darkrose



Series: Art of the Deal [5]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Crossdressing, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:16:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrose/pseuds/darkrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pavel's been traded, and he's happy to be whatever his new patron wants him to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetheart Deal

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This fic is set in the Star Trek Mirror Universe, which is a dystopic version of the Prime Star Trek universe that includes sexual violence and consent issues. This particular fic includes forced crossdressing and verbal humiliation.
> 
> **Notes:** For this version of the Mirrorverse, I'm sticking with canon as presented in Enterprise and TOS. Instead of following the DS9 version, however, I'm branching off after the TOS episode "Mirror, Mirror" and mostly going with the Mirrorverse history from Diane Duane's _Dark Mirror_.

Pavel pretends not to notice the sidelong glances, stares, and outright gawking he gets as he heads to sickbay. As long as it's confined to looking and doesn't escalate further, it's kind of nice to have confirmation that he looks good, especially given how much effort he's put into it.

It had been easier than he expected to enlist Uhura and Gaila's help. A little shy stammering and a few blushes, and they'd been more than happy to take him shopping in San Francisco, their very own dress-up doll. He owes them, and at some point they'll call in the favor. If all goes as planned though, he'll have his new patron trained well enough to keep them from getting too unreasonable.

The sickbay doors slide open before he reaches them and one of the nurses comes out, giving Pavel an appreciative look as he passes him. Everything is empty--not surprising, since they haven't reached Romulus yet--and dark, except for a light in one corner of the large room. Pavel heads in that direction. He can see Doctor McCoy through the glass partition of his office. McCoy is scowling at something on his computer terminal as he takes repeated swigs from a silver flask. Pavel frowns; the last thing he wants is for McCoy to be too drunk to fuck him, and get angry--or worse, depressed--about being unable to perform.

He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. "Doctor?"

McCoy looks up, startled, and actually drops the flask. His eyes go wide as he stares at Pavel, who smiles shyly and smooths down the front of his dress.

"Is this what you had in mind?" he asks, his accent just a bit heavier than usual, "I can change, if you would rather--"

"No!" McCoy says quickly. "No...that's...you look fantastic."

Pavel doesn't think that lavender is his color, and he'd wanted to wear high heels that would show off his legs--only he hadn't been able to take more than a few steps in them before tripping. Still, he'd been pleased with the overall effect, and he's glad it seems to be working for McCoy.

Taking a few steps forward, he hops up and perches on the edge of McCoy's desk. "I am happy that you like it, Sir," he says, letting his voice crack a little. It has the desired effect; McCoy reaches across the desk, grabs him by both shoulders and kisses him hard, shoving his tongue into Pavel's mouth and biting at his lips. He tastes like stale coffee and whiskey and it almost makes Pavel gag.

Keeping his mouth pressed against Pavel's, McCoy runs a finger along the pressure strip at the back of his dress. He shoves it down to Pavel's waist--and stops when he sees the corset underneath, laced just tight enough to create the suggestion of a woman's shape under the dress.

"My God, boy..." he whispers, stroking the black leather with his palms. "This is fucking incredible. Did you come up with this on your own?"

Pavel ducks his head. "Not all of it, Sir. Commander Uhura and Ensign Gaila helped me pick it out."

"Did they, now." McCoy takes Pavel's chin in one big hand and forces him to look up. "That was mighty nice of them--but you make sure they don't start getting any ideas, you hear me? You belong to me now, and everyone else had best keep their damn hands off you unless I say so."

That's exactly what Pavel wants to hear. He leans forward and kisses McCoy briefly. "Of course, Sir."

"Stand up, boy," McCoy orders. Pavel jumps off the desk as McCoy comes around to the other side and slides the dress off. Pavel's practiced this, so he has no problem stepping out of the fabric pooled around his ankles and bending over the desk.

McCoy chuckles. "You're that hungry for it? Were you not getting enough from Sulu, or are you just a natural whore?"

Pavel's glad McCoy can't see his face, because he knows he's not doing a very good job of hiding his anger. He'd been with Sulu since his first day at the Academy, and Pavel always thought it was a good fit. He'd learned Sulu's moods well enough to anticipate his wants--and he'd also learned how to steer Sulu in the desired direction without being too obvious about it. Occasionally, Pavel thought he might like Sulu a little. Being handed off to McCoy is a move up--even with Kirk's support, Sulu's family history would keep him, and by extension, Pavel, from advancing as quickly as he should have--but there's still a part of him that resents being traded around like an unwanted package.

McCoy nuzzles the back of his neck. "I want you to grow your hair out," he says, breath hot against Pavel's skin. "Doesn't have to be too long--just enough to give me something to grab."

"Yes, Sir." Pavel shifts position so that McCoy's erection is pressed against the crack of his ass. He's been hard since before he left his quarters, enjoying the sensation of having his cock trapped in soft silk. It's time for McCoy to shut up and fuck him. "Sir...please...I am ready for you..." He'd debated whether prepping himself beforehand would spoil the naive young thing act, finally deciding that McCoy wasn't an idiot--and he has access to Pavel's medical records; he'll know damn well that Pavel's no innocent.

"Christ, you're not fucking real, are you boy?" McCoy says, but he doesn't waste time, practically tearing the panties off. He grabs Pavel's hips with both hands, fingers digging in hard enough that Pavel thinks there'll be bruises tomorrow, and shoves in.

It's been less than forty-eight hours since the first time McCoy claimed his new property, so Pavel has an idea of what to expect. McCoy's not a small man, though, and it hurts almost as much the second time around. Fortunately, even if he hadn't been a masochist to start with, three years with Hikaru Sulu has given Pavel a keen appreciation for pain mixed with sex. He doesn't have to stretch his acting skills much to moan convincingly while McCoy fucks him fast and hard.

As it turns out, he doesn't have to worry about McCoy being too drunk to get it up--to the contrary, the man has incredible stamina. Pavel's starting to worry that he's going to be late for his next shift when McCoy finally pushes him almost flat on the desk and comes. Before Pavel can say anything, McCoy takes hold of his shoulders again, turns him around, drops to his knees and takes Pavel's cock in his mouth.

_That's_ certainly unexpected. McCoy is looking straight into Pavel's eyes, and even without the occasional scrape of teeth it would be clear who's in charge. That's fine...more than fine, actually. Pavel gasps, not sure if it's acceptable to come in his patron's mouth, but McCoy doesn't move, so Pavel does.

He can taste himself in McCoy's mouth when he gets to his feet and gives Pavel another one of those bruising kisses. His hands are buried in Pavel's hair, pulling and tugging painfully; it's almost enough to get him hard again. Finally he shoves him away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Nice," he drawls, stretching the word out into at least three syllables. "Shower's around the corner; go get yourself cleaned up." Pavel obeys and goes to stand under the sonic shower for about a minute. When he returns, McCoy is back behind his desk, staring at his terminal. He beckons Pavel over and starts to lace him back into the corset, slightly tighter than he'd had it originally.

"When's your next duty shift?" he asks Pavel.

"Fifteen minutes, Sir--I'll have just enough time to change clothes."

"Keep this on." When Pavel blinks in surprise, McCoy raises an almost Vulcan eyebrow. "Is that a problem, Ensign?"

"No, Sir." Fortunately, he'll be at his station and seated, so no one will notice an inappropriate erection--and even if they do, he's seventeen, after all.

"Good. I think for next time, I'll want to you see you in uniform--the girl's version, that is. You can figure out the best way to get one." He cups his hands around Pavel's waist. "I think that skirt will look good on you."

Pavel smiles as he races back to his quarters to change. McCoy is proving to be more interesting than he'd expected. This definitely has promise.


End file.
